My closest girlfriend — the only person besides myself who knew some of the surreptitious details — asked me what possible reason I had in seeing a married man.
“You’re playing with fire, girl,” said Stephanie, a woman I met in high school and whose friendship I treasure years later. “It can only lead to trouble! Trouble, with a Capital T.”
Steph didn’t know all the details of my relationship with K. Linford Little. Heck, she didn’t even know about my clandestine relationship with my former boss until after I had broken up with the man. It was in the weeks following the breakup where I revealed to the woman how I had been seeing my former boss for several years, how I fell in love with him, and how I broke things off when I finally came to the realization that my objective and his weren’t in tandem.
I had wanted something long term, while he was using me for a fling, and that was that.
Stephanie was understanding and supportive at the time. But, months later, when I resumed my relationship with Mr. Little, she was anything but. She emphatically told me that being with a married man who had no desire for anything other than “secretive companionship” was a prelude to disaster.
I, on the other hand, looked at it in a different way. Unlike the old days when I really thought I’d one day become Mrs. Little number two, the new me and the new relationship with the man was completely different. We were, well, play toys for each other, getting together for friendship, companionship and, yes, sex. With no strings attached.
Mr. Little remained married to wife number one and only, I dated several guys before hooking up with and eventually moving in with a great guy, and from time to time my former boss and I would secretively get together for some secluded rendevous.
It’s not easy to explain my need to see Mr. Little or his need to see me. Sure, our brief time together normally ended in a sexual situation, but that’s not the only reason for our serendipity. The sex was great, satisfying and wonderful, but the time together was too. We liked very much our time together. For me, I went home with my head held high and with great memories after each meeting.
Well, at least most of the time. Sometimes, though, I sensed my good friend Stephanie might have been a little bit more than correct in her assessment of my walking the tightrope of danger and trouble my having an affair with a married man. Especially given some of the settings for our meetings.
As mentioned in prior stories, Mr. Little and I agreed early in our relationship that his office was not the appropriate place for us to, uh, frolic. That is where it all began, of course, back in the days when I worked for the man years my senior. But we quickly realized that the danger of being caught in the act in his office was something that would not be career enhancing to either of us. So we took our show on the road, so to speak, meeting in mall parking lots, no-tell motels, parks, recreation centers. Of course we found many ways to mess around in his car, getting into all kinds of compromising positions, acting like horny teenagers. I think the car and sex go together, always have, as just the naughtiness of being in a semi-public location with the threat of being caught sends good shivers up my spine and excites my love buds.
I’ve chronicled a number of these activities and locations, but what happened Saturday was an outright doozy of a situation. It’s one that still gives me chills and, of course, brings Stephanie to mind, lecturing me on being stupid.
At 9 a.m. my cell phone rang, and Mr. Little asked if I could talk. “Hi sweetie, can you talk?”
I was on my way to a hair appointment, and hearing his voice made me smile. It had been a week since we had been together, and while we had talked a couple times I longed for a little more. Soon I realized I could have it, as his wife had taken the kids to a friends for the day and he would be able to slip away. Could I?
“Of course, honey…when…where?”
We agreed to meet at a train station parking lot near a local park. It was one of our usual meeting places, and we would move from there and take one car to the park, allowing us to keep our two vehicles away from each other as not to draw the suspicion of people who knew me since it was dangerously close to my house while being a decent distance away from his.
Mr. Little arrived first, and I slid to a stop in the space next to his apparently minutes behind his arrival. Entering his car, we embraced and quickly began making out like long-separated lovers. No pleasantries this day, just kissy face, hands feeling and heavy breathing. When we finally came up for air we moved apart a bit an talked about what had been going on in our respective lives — nothing too new nor different, but interesting conversation. All the while Mr. Little stroked my thigh, not in a sexual way but more in a pleasant, warm way.
Normally after a bit of conversation we’d drive over to the park, a secluded spot, or our favorite walking path. This day Mr. Little had no interest in moving, and we continued our conversation interspersed with a few kisses and an occasional hug.
The still of the morning, complete with its birds chirping broken up when in the distance I heard the sound of an approaching train. I couldn’t tell if it was a freight train or a passenger train, but it didn’t matter to Mr. Little. He had this thing about trains.
You might remember my story about us embracing on a bike path not far from where we were parked this Saturday. That’s the time when I felt a breeze on my backside while kissing the man. A passenger train was chugging past before I realized the little rascal had lifted my skirt, bearing my behind to startled (I suspected) passengers on the left side of the train. On another occasion Mr. Little had me go down on him along that same path when a train went by…but at least on that occasion we really weren’t in plain view. We might have been caught by spying eyes, but it was unlikely, and we quickly moved to safer surroundings once the train had past.
Now, you must understand that I am not an exhibitionist by rule. Yes, we’ve had our little sexual escapades in semi-public locations, but always with an eye toward safety. And while we had been observed on a couple occasions by the spying eyes of accidental voyeurs, we did make an attempt to stay in the background and not openly get caught doing the nasty.
Mr. Little asked me to go down on him in a hurry before the train came past. It didn’t take time for me to deliberate, it actually sounded fun. Heck, nobody would probably see me in his lap anyway and the thought of giving a passenger a chance quick thrill was too much to decline. I looked around, calculated that nobody was in our general vicinity and that the nearest passing cars would be more than 50 yards away. I guessed this little escapade would only last a couple minutes before we moved to a less visible location, and besides, if a car turned in or if by chance someone walked or rode their bike into the parking lot my observant boss would alert me before we were caught.
Coast clear, my ex-boss unzipped his trousers and reached into his boxers, pulling out his semi- hard cock as I licked my lips and maneuvered onto my knees on the passenger side. Then, holding myself up on one arm on his seat while resting my other elbow on the top of his mid-section, I slowly and tantalizingly lowered my head toward his manhood.
“Hurry, honey, hurry,” begged the man as the train approached. “Suck my dick!”
Gee, with a request like that what girl could resist? I licked the tip of his hardening cock, then ovaled my mouth and slowly sucked in his dick as I heard Mr. Little moan from above. It didn’t matter how many times I sucked his cock, it always gave me a thrill. I knew from experience he loved it too, as his dick twitched and I could hear him begin to breath heavily.
As per the norm, I began rocking and bobbing my head, bathing his cock with my saliva as I alternated sucks with licks. Mr. Little then reached over and began fondling my backside, switching between gentle grabs and light spanking. As the train approached I though we might present quiet a sight in the front seat of his car if observed from the right angle.
I continued to carefully suck my favorite dick as Mr. Little reached down and lifted my skirt, pulling it up to my mid-section. He then slithered his hand into my blue cotton Bare Necessities panties and began fondling my ass. He slid several fingers up and down the crack as I continued my assault on his self-proclaimed big banana.
“It’s a freight train, Robyn, here it comes,” said my boss, who I remember thinking should have been a play-by-play announcer. Mr. Little had this thing about talking dirty during our little escapades. So much so he would apologize in advance for some of the name-calling he would lovingly do. “Oh, yea, baby, suck my dick you cocksucker. Don’t stop. Oh yea.”
I continued to slowly bob my head on his manhood, and I felt his other hand begin caressing my hair. He’d run his fingers through by brown mane, then bunch some of it up in to a little pigtail of sorts and pull on it before pushing my head back down.
“Oh honey it looks like a long train, you’ll be sucking for a while, but that doesn’t bother you, does it? You love to suck cock!” said my ex-boss as moaned out an answer and then continued to fellate the always horny man. “God you’re a great cocksucker. Oh yea, that feels great.”
There is something about a cock in my mouth which makes me tingle. I think it is the control factor, I am in charge. He needs me, he received pleasure, but I am the boss, not him. I continued to suck him off but noticed, quite surprisingly, his dick was a bit softer than its rock-hard state of seconds before.
“Oh that feels so good, Rob…he sees us, the engineer sees us, oh my he’s doing a double take,” said my ex-boss as he pushed his mid-section off the car seat and pulled my head up a bit. It was almost as if he was showing the engineer! Of course, I immediately thought this was just idle fantasy, and that Mr. Little was merely playing with my mind. But who knows, maybe the man did get an eye full. Who knows? I just keep doing my duty. “Oh my what a show he got, you sucking my dick.”
As I heard the cars of the train clickety clack past our parked car, I concentrated on my ex- boss’ dick. It was now a slow, sensual blow job, as the urgency seemed to pass along with the engine car. Now Mr. Little slowed his bouncing to a stop, and I was able to suck on his dick without worrying about being impaled on his manhood.
I was lost in the act, but after a bit realized the train had past. Mr. Little continued to moan out dirty nothings, which was music to my ears. I actually got off on his dirty words. He continued to play with my ass cheeks, then pulled me over a little closer and slipped my panties down my thighs. Then his probing fingers found my pussy.
That, friends, was hot. Yes, his dick was pulsing in my mouth, but the sensations his fingers started with their strumming of my wet clit were not only naughty but exciting. His thumb rubbed against my clit as at least two fingers played with my fleshy sex spot. My eyes were closed as I savored the digitally induced stimulation. Mr. Little has magic fingers, it’s a simple as that. They bring me up and down, always hotter and hotter, until I explode.
Saturday was no exception, as my pussy tingled as he played his loving finger tune on my hot wet sex. He worked his fingers perfectly, taking me higher, leveling me off and then bringing me to the ultimate explosion.. I lifted my head off his dick when I came, spouting out a litany of superlatives as first one and then two orgasms shook my body.
Telling the man he was wonderful was one thing, but actions speak louder than words. At least that’s the theory once I caught my breath. I kissed Mr. Little, then got back to business, dropping my head into his lap. His dick had petered a bit, but soon my mouth brought it back to full mast as I licked, nibbled and stroked his cock. I loved sucking him off, and often thought about how some of my friends didn’t like oral sex. Stephanie, for one, did it, but always complained about having to do it. I would laugh and kid her to forget about cooking, the quickest way to a man’s heart was through his dick. And no quicker way than orally.
Still, there is too much of a good thing, especially when the mouth muscles are involved. I mean, on Saturday I must have been going down on him for more than 30 minutes without the sense of a sticky volcano-like eruption. On several occasions I lifted off to catch my breath and rest my lips and cheeks, but quickly Mr. Little begged me for more.
My mouth ached, but I was up for the test. I remember smiling and taking my favorite fall with renewed interest when he told me how much he loved me and how great my mouth was and how lucky he was to have me and a bunch of other verbal bouquets. My mind wandered as I sucked him, thinking how good his fingers felt and how much I loved going down on his dick.
Lost in our coupling neither of us heard a thing from our surroundings until there was a loud TAP TAP TAP on the driver side window of the car. I nearly choked on my man’s cock as he was startled and pushed up while I was pushing down.
“Fuck!” was all I heard from above as I scurried to push back onto the passenger side, my skirt tucked up into my waistband. Watching intently was a man who turned out to be a smug railroad officer who told Mr. Little to open his window and then ordered both us to put our hands on the dashboard.
Mr. Little’s now shriveled dick had all but disappeared from view, but his pants were clearly open. I finally noticed the show I was giving the man, and asked if I could make myself presentable.
“It’s okay if she gets dressed, isn’t it Roy?” asked the officer, and for the first time I noticed another man to my right. The men watched intently as I reached down, pulled up my panties, and attempted to modestly smooth out my skirt.
Busted!
I could see Mr. Little shaking, and I wasn’t much better. I needed a drink! Or for this bad dream to go away.
The two men looked at us while Mr. Little stammered something about us just kissing and holding each other after a walk in the park. The unnamed officer, through, cut short my ex-boss’ explanation.
“We received a report from one of our engineers that a girl was, as he said it, orally coupling with a man in this parking lot. He said they were in plain site and anyone could stumble upon them. Now, you two haven’t seen anyone like that, have you?”
I remember stuttering something as I noticed the sly smile on “Roy” face to my right. Heck, there was no question who the engineer had seen, these two had caught us in the act. Who knows how long these two guys had been watching? I was terrified they’d haul us in to railroad jail or something, or, worse yet, have a little discussion with the current Mrs. Little. That would not be marriage enhancing.
The men lectured us about the dangers of playing in public before telling us stay put as they retreated to their official looking automobile. Glancing over, we could tell they were in a discussion or some sort, and Mr. Little feared our little relationship would soon be kaput or broadcast throughout the tri-state area. He had more to lose than me, but I can assure you I wasn’t immune from worry. What would my current employers think of me after my name made the papers. Heck, what would my co-workers think. I would be the laughing stock for many, and I’m sure the taunting would be embarrassing at the least.
Resigned to begging their forgiveness, we were surprised when only one of the officers returned to our car.
“Ok, I’ve been in your situation before,” said the official sounding man. “This is private property, and you two are trespassing. Use this as your final warning on that issue. If we ever find you two here again, without a train ticket, you are not going to like the consequences. Sir, it was your misfortune to have been observed by one of our holy roller engineers, who thinks you should be damned to hell or something. And you, Miss, while very, er, talented I must say, should be a little more aware of your surroundings before, getting into a fellating situation.”
The man paused, probably for effect, but he had our attention. “This is not the place for your shenanigans, understand? You might look for a little more secluded place, know what I mean?”
We both nodded our understanding and agreement. We promised never to visit this lot again unless we were heading to board a train. We thanked him for giving us a break.
Then came the bombshell.
“Okay, enough…but I know you weren’t finished the, er, task you were working on. And Roy and I, well, are having a little coffee break over there,” said the man, pointing to the car. “We wouldn’t mind keeping a lookout, for, say, 10 minutes or so while you two lovebirds finish your business. No chance of being interrupted that way.”
Mr. Little declined the offer, but the officer implied it wasn’t an option. “Like I said, we’re going to be over there watching over things. You have 10 minutes. It’s okay, honey, nobody’s gonna tell or anything,” said the man with a smile. Seems our two officers were kicking us out, but wanted a little bit of a show before we left.
I shrugged, reaching over to Mr. Little’s pants where I began stroking his soft underwear. The officer smiled at my initiative, turned, and walked back to his squad car.
“Do you believe these two, Mr. Little?”
“No, but I think we better do as he says!” replied my former boss.
I have to admit that getting Mr. Little back into the mood took quiet some coddling and expertise. The mood was gone, and while the will was there his dick wasn’t cooperating. I glanced at the squad car, and sure enough the twosome had coffee and donuts and were enjoying our tentativeness. The older one nodded as I smiled in their direction, and he sort of said, it’s okay, go ahead. Why not?
Pulling out Mr. Little’s shriveled dick, I once again climbed onto the passenger side seat and lowered my head. It wasn’t long before my ex-boss’ cock began to lengthen, and after my oral ministrations soon became hard. I blew him for a couple minutes before I realized he just wasn’t going to cum. We had been down that road a couple times before, where the older man enjoyed my actions but just couldn’t orgasm. The pressure of performing before an audience, even one which really couldn’t see down into the car where I was munching on dick, was too much for the man.
Sensing the problem, I reached down and began stroking the dick. Boys will be boys, you know, and soon, I felt his hand on top of mine, and soon after that the play-by-play began.
“You are such a dirty cocksucker, Robyn, geez, you are bad,” said Mr. Little, stroking his dick into my mouth. “You’re sucking my cock and there are two guys over there who can see it..What a whore you are, a cocksucking whore.God it’s good…Go baby go, make it explode…Eat my popsicle. Suck it like my wife won’t. Eat the meat, baby, suck my cock.”
I love it when he talks dirty, and I did my best to make him happy. My head bounced up and down on his love muscle as my mouth sucked his rod. I licked his dick, I sucked it, I held still as he stroked into my mouth. I could fell from his panting and quickening of his strokes that he was getting close, and soon I was rewarded for my efforts when I felt the hot sperm shooting up his shaft and then into my waiting and willing mouth. It was a large load and overflowed onto my chin and neck, but I stayed on it like a trooper, continuing to please as his dick ultimately began to shrink.
Swallowing what I could, I thought that it might be fun to give the uniformed boys a thrill, so I rose and looked directly at the smiling twosome in the car just yards away. Smiling back, I reached up and rubbed the excess man sauce into my face, then sat back on the passenger side of the car. Fluffing back my hair, I reached into my purse and applied some bright red lipstick. Then I bent toward my ex-boss and planted a wet kiss.
I whispered about how I’d get him for not keeping the proper lookout, but said it with a huge smile. We had been busted, but we weren’t the worse for it. I told him to call me later on the cell and then quickly exited his vehicle and entered my own, no worse for the wear.
When Mr. Little called later that day we both agreed to be more careful. But we also laughed a bit and agreed how hot our little rendevous has been.
Somehow I didn’t think Stephanie would agree.
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